


We Built This House On Memories

by LilacsAndLilies



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Harley Keener Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Harley Keener plays the guitar, Harley Keener-centric, Irondad, Italian Tony Stark, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Beta Read, Parent Tony Stark, Peter is only mentioned 3 times, Piano, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is Good With Kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 15:29:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21322459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacsAndLilies/pseuds/LilacsAndLilies
Summary: Just some cute Harley and Tony fluff. Tony teaches Harley how to play the piano and both of them finally admit their father-son relationship.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 134
Collections: Irondad and his Iron kids





	We Built This House On Memories

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic! Tell me how I did.  
Set in that AU where Infinity War never happened.  
The title is from a Panic! At The Disco song: House of Memories.

It was about 5 o' clock and Harley was bored. There were only so many times he could scroll through his Instagram feed before he had seen everything, and he reached that point about 10 minutes ago. He would have been spending time with someone, but Tony was out in meetings all day and Peter left for patrol half an hour ago, leaving Harley all alone in the tower with absolutely nothing to do. 

He put his phone down and walked out into the hallway, deciding to spend some time in the lab. Maybe he could work on something for Peter, or even something for himself. He started for the elevator when suddenly he stopped in front of a door. The door was open, revealing a room full of instruments. Deciding instead to play something, he crept into the room.

The sunlight filtered through the windows onto the grand piano in the center of the room. Dust was layered thick on the covered instrument and Harley couldn't help but frown at the untouched room. He tiptoed around the piano to the guitar in the corner and reached out for the dust covered instrument. Slowly turning the pegs, he tuned the instrument and began humming a song. Then he wiped the dust off the instrument with the sleeve of his jacket. He strummed a couple notes and played a song to the empty room. He played the songs he learnt as a child, Remembering how Abby would sit next to him, telling him to learn her favorite songs. It didn't feel the same in the empty room as it did in their backyard so many years ago. The air around him felt heavy and he couldn't help but stop and set down the instrument. The abrupt note rang in the air, before the room settled back into silence. Harley felt like he was inside a museum, a room of relics and memories meant to be honored but never remembered. What would Tony say if he found him there now?

Harley got up and moved back to the door, his hand resting on the door frame as he began to walk out the door. He moved to leave before pausing and turning back, instead slowly moving towards the instrument in the center of the room. He put an arm out towards the instrument before recoiling, afraid of touching it. Instead, he grabbed a cloth lying on the bench and gently wiped away the dust. Then he sat down and blew the dust off the sheet music in front of him. The papers were old and wrinkled and looked like they had never been put away, instead sitting here like a memorial to whoever the instrument belonged to. The pages were worn down with use and covered in what appeared to be tear stains. Harley lifted a hand to play, gently resting his fingers on the keys. 

Harley had never learnt to play the piano, and couldn't recognize more than a few notes. He never really learnt to read sheet music in general, instead choosing to mess around with his guitar and figure the notes out himself. The pages in front of him now were in a foreign language to him. Carefully pressing a few notes, he tried to play the same songs he did on the guitar, listening to the notes and adjusting them accordingly. Music filled the room, the stale air twisting the happy song into somber notes. Harley looked at the sheet music again. He knew he should probably leave, but he couldn't bring himself to move. He kept staring at the keys and sheets, trying to understand why the room was so close to Tony's and yet so unused and empty. 

Harley was snapped out of his thoughts by a baritone voice. "You planning on playing it or just staring at the keys? I didn't realize sitting in a dusty room was so much more enjoyable than the lab."

Harley's head jolted as he turned to face the speaker. He saw Tony leaning against the door frame, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. The joke fell flat when Harley saw the sad look on the man's face. “I saw the guitar and though I should play.” He wanted to make a joke, but it didn’t seem right.

“We’ll come back to you being able to play the guitar later. How does playing the guitar end with you at the piano?” Tony walked into the room and sat down on the bench next to Harley.

Harley didn’t answer him, instead choosing to fire back his own question. “Why are all of these here? I didn’t think you had any hobbies besides sitting in the lab.” Harley cracked a small smile, hoping to make the room feel a little happier.

Tony didn’t respond immediately, instead choosing to look at the sheet music with a sad smile. Harley started panicking internally. What if he said something wrong? What if he wasn’t supposed to come in here?

He snapped out of his thoughts when Tony said, “This piano belonged to my mother.” The older man's voice sounded dazed, as though he wasn't really there and instead in some time long passed, communicating through echoes.

Harley froze in shock. Of course there was something important behind it. Tony probably wanted to keep it to remember his mother and he had come in and ruined it.

Before his anxiety could go too far Tony took a deep breath and suddenly sat up straight. He turned towards Harley saying, "Would you like to learn how to play?"

Harley took a second to collect himself. Great, now he was acting like Peter, all flushed and nervous about everything. He needed to get himself together. "Yeah, sure."

Tony had a thoughtful expression on his face. "You said you play the guitar?" Harley nodded, not trusting himself to avoid saying anything even more insensitive. Tony just continued. "So you can read sheet music?"

"Actually I can't. I learnt how to play with an old guitar at home. Only really started to try because Abby wouldn't stop bugging me. I never really learned properly, just figured out the notes to stuff by ear." He replied casually, feeling desperately out of place in the atmosphere surrounding the room and it's memories.

"I'm getting you a guitar later. Maybe even some classes."

"What? No. It's ok. I don't really play anymore." He didn't need Tony doing even more for him.

"But you want to?" Tony kept needling him, seeming to use this conversation as both a break from the room and a way to help Harley.

Harley just gave a long suffering sigh before nodding. There was no way to stop Tony. 

"Great!" Tony smiled and clapped his hands together. However, the smile quickly slid off of his face as he turned back to the piano, the somber setting replacing their light conversation. "I can't really teach you everything now, that would take way too long. But we can start with the notes and some simple songs."

Harley nodded and Tony launched into explaining how to read sheet music and where each note was on the large instrument. He helped Harley play through a few short songs and start to get his bearings. The entire time, Harley desperately tried to find a way out of the sadness trapped in the room without leaving Tony here to wallow alone.

"I think we can play this one now, " said Tony after they finished most of the smaller songs. Harley couldn't do anything but nod. He could tell this song was important and he was terrified of messing it up.

Tony carefully set the page up and rested his fingers gently on the keys. Harley mirrored him, his body racked with nervousness.

"This was my mother's favorite song. She taught me how to play when I was little."

Harley was knocked back by the admission. He had assumed as much, but to hear the words come from Tony felt completely different. At the same time, he couldn't help but hope. This is something Tony did with his mother. Now he's teaching Harley. Does that make them closer? He knew they had built up some quasi father-son relationship, but this was something important to Tony. This was big and Harley was scared.

Harley snapped out of his thoughts when Tony asked, "Ready?" Harley nodded and Tony gave him a small smile. Together they began playing. They started off slow, giving Harley time to get used to the piece. Soon after, they began speeding up, filling the room with a beautiful melody that seemed to clear away the sad memories. Harley and Tony immersed themselves in the music, playing the piece with their full concentration and letting it say the words they never could. 

Both of their hands dropped from the keys at the same time as the song reached an end. Harley turned to look at Tony, who was still staring at the sheet, the beginnings of tears in his eyes. Harley grappled for something to say. He knew he wasn’t good at this whole ‘emotions’ thing, but he couldn’t just leave Tony, couldn’t just leave his father figure like this. 

“Hey Tony.” The man turned to face him, attempting to discreetly wipe the tears from his eyes. “Thanks for teaching me. I’m glad you shared this with me. Playing the piano was something you did with your mother, so I know it’s important to you.” Harley smiled at the older man.

Tony smiled back. “No problem  _ cucciolo. _ ” Harley fought to blush at the nickname. Tony kept calling both himself and Peter little phrases in Italian and Peter had to translate all of them for Harley. 

Tony looked like he wanted to keep playing, so Harley attempted to excuse himself. “I think I’m gonna go to the lab, wanna come?” He hoped Tony would say yes, even though he knew he wouldn’t.

Tony just shook his head. “I think I’ll play some more, you go on. I’ll join you later, maybe after Peter comes back.”

Harley nodded and got up, slowly making his way to the door. He was at the door frame when he heard Tony whisper his name. “Harley.”

Harley turned around to face Tony. The man took a deep breath and continued. “It was important to my mother and I, and now I hope it’s important for me and you. It’s like I’m- I’m passing it down.”

Harley couldn’t speak. Tony had basically called him his son. Harley quickly walked back to the bench and gently wrapped his arms around Tony. Tony froze up for a second before reciprocating. They sat there like that for what felt like hours, before Harley slowly loosened his grip. “Thanks.” He paused, bringing up the courage to say his last word. “Thanks Dad.” Harley gave Tony a smile. Tony just grinned back as Harley got up and walked out of the door.

And when Peter came back, the first thing he saw was Harley in the lab, a wide smile still on his face.


End file.
